“I came here from Georgia, I hopped on a train car and traveled to Chattanooga, Tennessee and then jumped in another box car that took me here [Louisville, Kentucky],” he told me. I responded that I rarely meet people who travel by hopping trains these days stating, “That is pretty dangerous.” He quickly replied, “I once saw a man who tried to jump into an open car, but he missed. His body was dragged by the train trapping him under the wheels. All I saw were bones and blood, it was horrible – the operator of the train never knew what happened and continued down the tracks.” He later added, “I suffer from bad PTSD, but I’ve been sober for 6-days.” At that point, I thought the PTSD was from what he saw riding the rails, but I was very wrong.

His story is deeper than most that I have encountered. Please note that I never question the validity of the stories I am told… I only repeat them for others to read. That being said, this is what he told me:

He watched his wife and son die in an automobile accident a number of years back, prior to hitting the bottle non-stop. “What happened to your wife and child,” I patiently asked as I leaned against a wall in front of him? He grew silent while looking me in the eye and without a blink he said, “I was on my motorcycle and she was in the car next to me, we had just pulled into a parking lot near Fort Payne, Alabama when she had a seizure. Her foot hit the gas pedal and she drove off a cliff. The car burst into flames before I could make it down there. She died in the fire, along with my child. I watched it happen.”

Little did I know, the above events were only a small portion of a large number of tragic catastrophes that took place in the life of Van Anthony Diamond, age 47.

Diamond told me that his alcohol consumption got so bad after the death of his family that when he could no longer afford to drink, he would go into stores and drink hand sanitizer and rubbing alcohol.

“Were you ever in the military,” I questioned? “I was in the Navy for 16-years, but was dishonorably discharged.” He then told me of another tragic story that I honestly did not expect to hear.

This according to Diamond:

“I was in the country of Lebanon and my job was to protect children who were rescued by U.S. Forces. As I was on watch, I heard a commotion coming from where the children were asleep. I walked in and found a Naval Commander raping a 10-year old boy. I then dropped my weapon and went hand to hand with him. I beat the Commander and I was discharged for not following proper procedure.” The story continued, but I will spare you the details as he described to me what he saw.

He gave me the name of a local artist in Louisville whom he recently met. He said, “[This man] said that he would be my sponsor, but I don’t have a phone to contact him to tell him that I have remained sober since meeting him. I’ve been eating, thanks to an older woman over there [pointing at a small house on Shelby Street], she has brought me a home cooked meal every night. I haven’t left this bench in six days.”

Since year 2000, Diamond has been in and out of jail in Georgia until he was finally ordered by a judge to leave the state, according to the words that he spoke as he sat nearly motionless and later standing.

As you can tell, the depths of his PTSD are much greater than most face. It all started during Desert Storm and further escalated with the death of his wife and child.

Before we left, my friend and I gave him a new pair of shoes, new socks and Ibuprofen for his shoulder that was dislocated. He then stated, "I tried to get help for my shoulder, but I was told that I needed specialized care after they drew my blood and and it was almost black." I told him that can mean several serious things, including a lack of oxygen. He then told me that he has had cancer in the past and also suffers from Hepatitis C. I then told him that he needs to go to a large hospital, but he refused to accept the advice.

I made a phone call to his sponsor as we drove away, leaving a message as there was no answer.